When the Saint comes, she does not collect food

Chapter 719: Giant's Footprints, Mortal Abyss

Soon after the angry Stonebreaker messenger left, news came from the border.

Piles of shepherds' heads were stacked into a small pyramid, and no one dared to sell wool on the border except those desperate Norn merchants.

In just one month, the original wool imports of Shishi decreased by 30% to 50%, but the price increased by more than 20%.

For the nobles of Gravel Plain, the loss was not that great.

Due to the special geographical location of Gravel Plain, the climate and hydrological conditions are comparable to those of several mountainous counties in the Thousand River Valley, and farming is only possible in some river valley basins.

Its biggest advantage lies in its abundant grassland resources and a warm and humid environment suitable for raising sheep.

Therefore, the people of the Gravel Plains were divided into two categories: one was the shepherds who built huts on the wilderness to raise cattle and sheep; the other was the farmers who built cities and cultivated land in the river valleys.

Currently, most of the nobles in the Stonehenge are agricultural nobles, and they are also the earliest Norns to convert to the religion of Myrcella.

The Shishiyuan nobles, who controlled the important waterways and food, relied on food and knights to force the shepherds to work for them.

Exchange high-priced food and water for low-priced wool.

That is, the tax in the Gravel Plain area is based on sheep rather than cash.

The wool from Gravel Plain can compete with the wool from Golden Fleece Beach, and its biggest advantage is that it is cheap.

And this bargain is entirely based on the suffering of the shepherds.

Prior to the blockade of the Thousand River Valley, the nobles did not have to rely on the Thousand River Valley to consume wool. It was a spontaneous trade among the folk shepherds.

They were just greedy for the profits from this trade, but after being beaten up by Meliati, they did not dare to directly help the Leia people invade the Thousand Valley.

From the perspective of Horn and even a group of senior monks, life is just a little more difficult.

But in South Mound County, for some South Mound County families who make a living from this, this is simply the sky falling.

Before the evening light penetrated the mist of South Moundshire, old Laffer was already squatting in the cowshed milking the animal.

The black and white cow let out a low moan, its dark pink breasts rose and fell between old Laffer's rough palms, and tiny bubbles appeared in the tin bucket.

This Norn cow, which had cost him four months' wages in weaving, was now looking at him with its gentle almond eyes, and the white air from its nostrils formed ice crystals in the cold wind.

"If you try harder, you can fill half a barrel." Old Laffer's wife, wrapped in a faded woolen shawl, stood outside the fence, as if to comfort the cows and to encourage Old Laffer. "You can get three pounds of rye at the market."

He didn't know if it was an illusion, but old Laffer felt that her voice was like a broken dead branch blown by the north wind, with tiny cracks.

Fifteen-year-old Laffer suddenly poked his head out from behind the firewood pile, his nose red from the cold: "Dad, can I have a sip? Taste the saltiness..."

"We're going to sell them for money!" The mother's voice suddenly became sharp, startling the cows so much that they swung their tails, and little Laffer was even more frightened.

"If you don't want to give it to me, then don't give it to me. Why are you howling?" Little Laffer thought that his complaints were not heard, but he felt a tearing pain in his ears.

"You have to go to Brother Ansel to learn how to do accounting later. Your uncle Lalor gave you the place, but all you can think about is eating!"

Old Laffer looked at his son who was making hoarse, pig-killing screams. His face was round, but full of scars from wind, frost and frost.

The milky white liquid swayed on the bucket wall, and he suddenly pushed the bucket towards the boy: "Drink it."

When little Laffer swallowed greedily, his mother turned her face away. The red light of the setting sun leaking through the roof of the cowshed just happened to shine on her trembling shoulders.

Those silver coins that were originally used to buy new spindles and the chirping sounds of the looms in the middle of the night have now turned into milk foam on the lips of the young man who was drinking like a cow.

They used the money they had saved previously and also borrowed some money from others to buy the cow.

Nowadays, wool prices have risen and trade volume has decreased. Brother Ansel is even making a loss by processing materials at the original price, but after all, only a very few people are eligible for this.

Old Laffer was unable to take the red ball out of the bag.

As dusk stained the thatched roofs, a stew was boiling in a cast-iron pot.

When my mother returned from the cowshed, she took out a piece of venison wrapped in oil paper from the deepest part of the oak cabinet. It was left over from last year's Whitsunday and the edges were already turning blue-gray.

She sprinkled the last of the rosemary, and the sound of the fat sizzling in the pan mingled with the evening bells of the village church.

"Eat." The mother handed the plate to her husband. When the golden brown steak was served on the table, little Laffer's Adam's apple rolled violently and he looked at his father like a puppy.

The mother's copper spoon fell with a sound of breaking wind, and a red mark instantly appeared on the back of the boy's hand, just like a crescent moon in the evening.

"This is for your father!" The woman's voice was like a broken string.

Old Laffer, however, acted as if he saw nothing. He cut off half a steak with a notched knife and pushed it to his son. Oil splattered on the coarse linen tablecloth, forming dark spots.

"The vultures of the Gravel Plains can't take my bones away." His raspy voice made ripples in the pickled vegetable soup in the ceramic bowl. "When I return from the border post, I can not only pay off the money I owe, but also buy three more cows."

The mother, who was pulling her son's ears, suddenly covered her face with her apron. Her sobs leaked out from behind the burlap, mixed with the crackling sound of charcoal exploding in the stove:
"Moriati, this white-eyed she-wolf, bullied us like this, and she actually vetoed the proposal to attack the Gravel Plains...

The people of Shishiyuan bullied us so much, but she didn't say a word.

How long had she been a tyrannical queen? In the end, it was the saintly grandson who made our lives better...

If I had known this earlier, I would have chosen His Majesty as the despot. The people of North County said that sausages cannot be pickled without spices, so he immediately went to conquer Black Snake Bay..."

"Stupid woman!" Old Laffer's fist slammed the wooden table so hard that it shook. "Do you think spiced and cured meat can fill your stomach?"

The roar startled the crows under the eaves and flew away, and the sound of flapping wings was heard in the night.

"If you have the guts, go and yell at Melia. You only know how to bully me!"

"Is that something you can discuss? We are where we are now because of the grace of the Holy Father..."

Taking advantage of the gap between his parents' quarrel, little Laffer hurriedly pulled his ear out of his mother's hand and stuffed the meat into his mouth.

The fat flowed from the corners of his mouth to his chin. Like Zhu Bajie eating a ginseng fruit, the steak was sucked into his stomach and he let out a satisfied "burp" from his mouth.

After dinner, the family was still silent.

Young and old Laffer were practicing their daggers before the fireplace, while their mother sat beside her packed luggage, sewing clothes in tears.

As the moonlight climbed up the tops of the holly trees, Lalor came into the yard carrying a clay pot: "Cousin, I brought you some wine."

Old Laffer, who smelled the aroma of wine, immediately rushed out of the room and looked at the skinny Lalor. He said with some envy: "You lucky dog, Brother Ansel has made a connection with you, and you won the lottery again this time."

Lalor smiled bitterly. "The damned Gravel people drove up the price of wool to a level higher than velvet. I can barely pay the loan. Want to come in and talk?"

"Let's talk outside, just like we did when we were kids."

Two men squatted beside the millstone, drinking mead made from acorns from wooden cups.

"I'm going to the border this time, and the family is relying on you."

"Don't worry, no one will bully them."

"If I don't come back for three years, you will sleep in Tatali's bed."

Lalor turned his head sharply, took a closer look, and after confirming that old Laffer was not joking, he shook his head and said, "She will poke my eyes out with the spindle."

"She'll understand." Old Laffer looked toward the window frame through which the dim light shone. The murmur of young Laffer reciting the multiplication table could be faintly heard. "It's like your father gave half of your family's last bag of oats to my mother."

"My mother was furious and came over to argue with me."

"Yes, in the end it was your father who took her away..."

As the morning star rose, the sound of cows chewing their cud came from the cowshed, and the sound of the troop transport's wheels rolling over the frozen ground woke the entire village.

Tatali was stuffing her husband's wool socks into a canvas bag when she suddenly felt an iron ring hidden at the bottom of the socks.

This was a gift from the old blacksmith when they got married. The iris pattern on the ring had long been worn away by time.

When the oversleeping little Laffer reached the village entrance, the morning mist soaked his linen shirt, which stuck tightly to his back.

He saw his father toss the flagon to Lalor, saw his mother clutch the ring until her knuckles turned white, saw the wheel tracks leave two dark scars on the frosted ground.

Like the gold hem on the robe of the messenger of Gravel.

(End of this chapter)